Although it starts out engagingly enough, "King of the
Ants" can't decide whether it wants to be a horror pic, a
neonoir crime caper, or psychological thriller with slasher
inclinations. The genre confusion is fatal, and despite the presence of
recognizable names, clever writing, and a veteran director, pic will go
straight to vid. It should get some cult status on the midnight circuit,
though.

Likable Chris McKenna toplines as Sean Crawley, a twentysomething
Angeleno painting houses until he can figure what to do with his life.
So when burly electrician Duke Wayne (George Wendt, still chugging his
"Cheers" beers) asks him how he feels about getting involved
in "something kind of immoral," he doesn't hesitate long.
Turns out the big guy's boss (a creepy Daniel Baldwin), seemingly a
mobbed-up developer, feels threatened by a City Hall accountant (an
uncredited Ron Livingston). At first, they ask Sean to tail the dude,
then the job escalates, leading to one of the most brutally realistic
murder scenes ever filmed.

Our nonhero has gone over the edge, but it turns out that his new
benefactors have no intention of paying him. In fact, when he makes one
demand too many, he's whisked off to a prefab house in the desert,
where thugs (including "Road Warrior's" Vernon Wells)
proceed to beat Sean's underdeveloped brains in. Reduced to a
senseless beast, he finally escapes, with maximum violence, stumbling
back to the city and into capable care of the local soup-kitchen
administrator, who just happens to be the dead accountant's widow
(cast standout Kari Wuhrer). Once he begins thinking semi-clearly again,
Sean starts wheedling his way into the woman's life, partly to
mitigate his crime and partly out of sheer opportunism.

As long as Charlie Higson's script, adapted from his own,
U.K.-set novel, plumbs these ambiguities, pic remains interesting and
even amusing on several levels, not least because much of its noirish
action takes place in bright sunlight, with minimal music and other
mood-enhancing devices. But helmer Stuart Gordon, who has made pics as
disparate as "Re-Animator" and "Honey, I Shrunk the
Kids," keeps gunning for the grotesque, too often just to create a
shocking image.

Pic ends not with protag coming to grips with his degradation but
with that ultimate '90s action cliche: tough guy walking away from
a big explosion without looking back. Image looks more like a set-up for
a bad cable series than a decent finish for the offbeat exploitation pic
this started out to be.

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